GQ at 50: The Wronged Man

This is Calvin Willis after twenty-two years in a box: a man of rare spiritual
elevation; a child who doesn't know how to spoon food onto his own plate.

At Thanksgiving, Momma Newton gathers her kin—Calvin; Kesha and her husband;
Calvin Jr. and his boy (Calvin's first grandson, Elijah, born two days after
Calvin gained his freedom)—as well as Debbie, her husband, Edward, and their
9-year-old daughter, Briana. The minute she lays eyes on Calvin, Debbie becomes
acutely self-conscious; where she's put on the pounds, Calvin, having been stopped
in time, is as beautiful as the day he vanished.

"I know," she says, casting her eyes down. "I was a size 5 when you left. Now look
at me."

Calvin
just smiles.

"Still look good to me."

She hugs him, then asks if he's ready. When he says he is, Edward comes forward.

"I got to say something to you," Calvin says.

Edward braces himself. This has been a long time coming.

"I want to thank you," Calvin continues. "It takes a strong man to raise another
man's kids right, allowing them to become who they need to become. My children
are beautiful. I know you've had a hand in that. I thank you."

"Who's that man?" Briana asks her mother. "Why he make Daddy cry?"

Debbie takes her daughter aside.

"He's
father to Kesha and Calvin Jr.," she explains, "but no one to you."

Briana does a lovely thing then. She runs across the living room and grabs hold of
Calvin's waist. He takes her up, and the two of them talk for a while. He says
the things one says to a child. Hello, missy. What's your name? How are you?
But after a few minutes Briana sees something in this man, something cavernous
and vast, and it amazes her. Calvin, a man who has been forced to spend half
his life letting other souls carry and act upon his most fathomless passions,
then watches as Briana turns to face her mother.